


You Can Always Stay At My Place

by Okamichan6942



Series: Tying Up Loose Ends [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Video Game 2018), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Extended Scenes, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:17:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okamichan6942/pseuds/Okamichan6942
Summary: Follow up on Pete and MJ’s last conversation in the main game which is as unspoilery as I can make this spoilery fic. Smut otherwise. Enjoy the Spidey/Jane smut.





	You Can Always Stay At My Place

**Author's Note:**

> I finished the game and rewatched the ending a couple of times the day before I started hunting for Spidey/Jane smut in this universe. I was disappointed to see its lack. This cannot stand!! Yes, the beginning is straight from the ending, I’m using it to get a feel for this MJ, hush.

The door jangled above her head when Mary Jane walked in, filled to bursting with excitement. She’d already seen Pete browsing his new laptop through the window, and headed straight for him. He stood up, eyes brightening and closed the distance between them.

“So...?”

She smiled. “Hi,” she said, extending her hand that he took without question. “Mary Jane Watson, associate editor.”

Pete’s face lit up and he shook her hand in his. “Congrats! I knew you could do it.” His other hand flailed a little, as though uncertain where to rest.

She beamed, thanking him, and ignoring the awkward hand, and went to sit in the booth across from him. “What about you? Find a job yet?” She stole a delicious fry from the basket already on the table, knowing he would never object.

“Oh, no but uh...” he shut his laptop and slid it to the side, the excitement leeched out of his words.

The waitress passed by with a quick “I’ll be right with you, honey,” and Mary Jane almost missed what he said next.

“I was actually considering a career change.”

A frown tugged at Mary Jane’s lips. His little laugh worried her, almost as if he were laughing at himself. “Hm?”

“Yeah. I think I might want to become a chef.”

Mary Jane choked on her fry, laughing. “I’m sorry. No, it’s… you’re a scientist. A good one.”

Pete grimaced. “The last project I worked on I created a monster octopus that almost destroyed the city. So...” There was that self-deprecating laugh again.

“Yeah….” Her heart ached for all the pain she knew lay behind that laugh, and she looked for some other subject to take the pain out of his eyes. “I mean, you do make a hell of a chicken curry.”

He chuckled, and she knew he remembered that delicious chicken curry he’d left in her kitchen. Along with the clothes on her floor. “I do.” He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes “Still working on my dumplings, though.”

She laughed, glad to have taken some of the pain out of his face.

He fell silent though, and she took notice of the backpack sitting in the booth next to him.

“Going camping?”

He followed her gaze. “Oh...” he sat back and brushed it away. “My new place isn’t going to be ready for about a week, so I’m going to be crashing with Miles for the next few nights.”

“Oh,” She hadn’t even realized there was a ‘new place.’ She wondered why he’d never brought it up before, but Aunt May had always talked about that ‘Parker Pride’, and Mary Jane knew Pete too well to be entirely surprised. She didn’t want to force him, but... “You know, you can always stay at my place...” The look on his face had her back pedaling a little, maybe she’d misread him? “I mean,” she rubbed the table top, trying to push her uncertainty away in that single gesture, but she stopped before he noticed. “Only if you want to.”

He jolted upright and started stammering. “No. I mean, yes! I mean, no I don’t **not** want to, meaning I **do** want to… but only if you do.”

She smiled, wondering how anyone could not see the similarities between this awkward man and the guy swinging around in spandex. She met his gaze and leaned forward, her consternation squeezing out of her with the words, “I never stopped wanting to.”

And that put the first genuine smile on Peter’s face she’d seen in the last three months. “Me neither.”

Her heart melted, and what could she do, but put her hands on the table and lean toward him? Never breaking his gaze. He met her halfway, lips warm and soft. Gentle. Always gentle with her.

His hand slid across the table to cover one of hers and when they parted he didn’t let go. “I guess… I should call Miles and let him know about the change of plans.”

She smiled, rather than answer.

The waitress came back, polite smile on her face.

They ordered and ate, conversation minimal. Just two people enjoying one another’s company. A chance, for her to admire his face, and that enviable thick head of hair. Their hands still touched across the table, just the light brush of fingertips. She flirted with him, and he stuttered back at her making her laugh again. It wouldn’t take him long to get used to it again, she knew. For as often as he hesitated, he also gave a few good quips to her teases.

It didn’t last long, as it never did. Especially when you dated Spider-man.

At least they finished lunch before he had to leave.

Quick kiss as he hurried out the door.

“See you tonight?” she murmured.

He paused, taking a gulp of air. And there, that elusive smile, for the second time in one day. “Definitely.”

Then he dashed away, leaving her to gather the cash he’d dropped on the table: a soggy five, a few crumpled ones and a handful of coins. She paid, leaving a tip for the waitress and left the cafe with the styrofoam boxes of leftover in a bag.

She knew to look, so she saw the colorful figure that bounced between the rooftops. “Did he just woo-hoo?” she muttered, covering the grin that broke out on her face.

She headed back to the Daily Bugle’s office, stashing her leftovers in the fridge. She plunged back into the story she’d been working on, an exposé on a rash of cat burglaries in the secured penthouses. She kept an eye on the phone, in case Pete needed help with anything during his own ‘job’. Looking at the phone made her heart race, and mouth dry up like the sahara.

She couldn’t believe she’d really done it. Invited him back into her life on a more permanent basis than ‘good friends in passing.’ She didn’t regret it, not in t he least. She’d missed Peter, and she’d never found anyone quite like him. Aaron had been sweet, until he’d lost his temper two times too many. Keith had been a mistake, like dating Flash from school, nice bod, no brains, and no kind bone in his body. She didn’t want to think about Paul or Sam… She shook her head and refocused her efforts on the article in front of her. She didn’t need to go rooting around in her closet like that. She had skeletons and so did Pete.

What had Pete said that one time? “Not all baggage was bad...”L Maybe not between them. She wouldn’t have missed him if all the time together had been sour. She supposed their break-up was her fault as much as his. But he’d been so overbearing. God. It still made her mad just thinking about it.

Mary Jane stopped that thought because he’d definitely gotten better about that protective streak. She grabbed her coffee breathed in the invigorating aroma before taking a mouthful of cold coffee and setting the cup down. “Ugh,” she said as much to herself as at the coffee.

She finished the article with just as much focus, which is to say none at all. But she did finish it, at least. Then she had another on her desk to review and two more to follow until the end of her day.

~*~*~*~*~

Her apartment seemed quieter and darker than normal when she walked in, feet aching from the long walk and standing on the subway. She flicked on lights, tossing her shoes and coat into her entry closet on the way by. The leftovers had disappeared earlier in the day, and MJ had instead two boxes of Thai.

She had gotten word from Pete that he’d be by in a bit. She’d let him know that she would grab dinner on her way home, and she’d leave the window unlocked. She’d gotten a brief ‘k’ which made her wonder if she should warn him about the dangers of texting and swinging. It made her remember that time he’d gone swinging after drinking too much. He had been so bruised and scraped up, like he’d fought the Rhino. It had only happened once that she knew of.

He couldn’t afford to be caught by his enemies in that condition.

She unlocked the window and pulled her laptop out to work and eat while she waited.

She was about to call it a night, when someone knocked on her door.

Mary Jane frowned and glanced at the empty window.

Peter’s smile greeted her when she opened the door, a bouquet of flowers cradled in his arm, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Hey. So, I thought it would be a good idea to, um,” he stepped through the door she held open, and didn’t continue until she’d closed the door. “come through your front door instead. So maybe it wouldn’t look too weird when I left in the morning?”

She pressed her lips together, pinching them into a frown. “Hm. You actually gonna make it to morning, you think”

His brown eyes widened and he shifted his feet before holding out the bouquet. “Flowers?”

That made her crack. “It’s fine, Pete. Flowers are always welcome.” She took the flowers and a kiss while she was at it, “Thank you,” she said, loving the smile that spread across his face. “I’ll just put these in some water. Did you want to take a shower?”

“Shower? Oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “that would be great, if you don’t mind.”

“Don’t be silly. Besides, I bet you’re covered in street sweat. And web residue.” She went into the kitchen, locking her window as she passed by. She picked up a glass jar full of pens on her kitchen counter and dumped them into a drawer.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Pete take his coat off, and stick that and his shoes in her coat closet. He set his back pack on the couch to dig for a change of clothes.

“So,” Mary Jane said as she carried the impromptu vase into the living room and set it on her windowsill, “what happened to your old apartment? Did you trade it for Aunt May’s place until you could sell it?”

He paused, wrinkled sweats in his hands, haunted eyes staring at nothing on the wall, “N-no. I’d been sleeping at F.E.A.S.T before that, in-in her office.”

She had to remember to shut her mouth, and maybe not stare quite so hard. “Oh, Pete,” what could she do but go to him and reach out. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know.” She dropped her hand when he turned, sad eyes behind his mussed bangs.

Pete grimaced in what most would pass as an uncomfortable smile. “Don’t be. I never said anything.”

She crossed her arms in the hug she wanted to give Pete, but she knew he wouldn’t want her pity. She would not cry either, he wouldn’t appreciate that. Parker Pride and all. “I’m going to go get ready for bed. Go get clean.” She turned, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

His hand shot out, snagging her arm to turn her around. His eyes flicked over her face for a second, before he said, “Thanks, MJ. For… well everything.”

She gave him a watery smile, and retreated when he headed for the bathroom.

The water was still running when she’d finished changing and sprucing up. So she took the opportunity to make sure she didn’t have anything embarrassing laying around. She guessed it must be hard to get a good hot shower, even at F.E.A.S.T. She sure couldn’t begrudge him a long one now.

She heard the door close, and put down the picture of her, Harry and Peter that stood on her dresser.

He sat on the couch, eating while scrolling through his phone, his wet hair as flat and neat as it would never look dry. Gray sweats and white tee that just revealed the muscles beneath. She liked the tease of the shirt, more than she’d ever liked the tight cling of any of his Spidey-suit designs. Which was ridiculous, really.

Mary Jane paused at her bedroom door, doing one last tug at her nightie’s hem and making sure her straps sat properly on her shoulder. Goosebumps rippled on her arm from the chill her tiny heater couldn’t push out of her apartment. The goosebumps chased the chill right up her back side too, but that couldn’t be helped. She brushed her fingers through her own limp hair, pulling a few strands in front of her shoulders. Another tug at her high cut hem, and Mary Jane walked around her couch.

“You did call Miles, so he’s not expecting you, right?”

“Of course,” he said between bites “Mm, this is good Thai. I-” He froze before she’d even gotten all the way to where he could actually see her. Then he choked, his eyes locked on her.

She smiled with tight lips at him. “Something wrong, tiger?”

“No, no uh ahem.” Clearing his throat, he tore his eyes away from her, and stared into the depths of this box of Thai instead, as though it could offer some truth of the universe. “You look… That’s looks really good on you.”

Mary Jane pressed a hand between her breasts, brows furrowed and lower lip pouting. “Good? Is that all?”

Electro couldn’t have put more of a shock into his reaction, and she wondered if his Spider-sense could tell him he was treading dangerous ground. He held a placating hand up to her, looking at her again with his big brown eyes. “Beautiful, I meant beautiful.”

She slid onto the couch next to him, careful to keep her knees pressed together, and a hand on the hem of her nightie. “Mmmm. Better.”

So close, her fingers could no longer resist the magnetic pull of his skin. Silk that wrapped around steel bands of his wrists, and the firm curve of his bicep.

Pete stared down at her hand, his breath ragged, air whistling past his clenched teeth, eyes burning.

She pulled her hand away, clasping her hands together to resist the urge to touch him more. “You should finish eating,” she told him. God knows how often he got to enjoy a full meal at any point, much less when he didn’t even have a place of his own.

He nodded, swallowed visibly and turned back to eating.

“The flowers were a pleasant surprise, where’d they come from?”

“Uh, well… I stopped some idiots from robbing a nice hispanic lady at her booth. And she gave me a bouquet as thanks. Or maybe it was a marriage proposal for her daughter. I’m a little rusty on my Spanish.”

Ooh, he’s got jokes. She must be making him uncomfortable. Which meant she had him right where she wanted him, ripe for some… fun. “Should I be jealous?” she asked, with a flutter of her eyes.

He may have been staring at his Thai box, but he sure did suck in a breath when she shifted closer, hands splayed over her knees. “I mean, she was pretty. They both were, but I’d rather… look at you?” He shoved a fork full of noodles into his mouth, his face tinged red.

“Nice save.”

He choked a soft chuckle. Sniffed and asked as casually as pososible, “What time do you need to be up for work? I don’t want to make you late.”

“I should be heading to bed here soon.”

His eyes slid over to her, gaze lingering on her bare legs. “You should be dressed a little warmer, don’t want you to get sick.” Pain pinched his eyes and he dropped his eyes back to his Thai to take an unenthusiastic bite.

Mary Jane set her hand on his arm, squeezing in sympathetic grief. “I won’t, Pete. Don’t worry. I think it’s plenty warm, right here at least.”

Oops, well she had her hands on him again. And she could smell him, clean soap and musty clothes that had been sitting in a backpack exposed to the elements for way too long. She rested her head on his shoulder, just so she could wrap his scent around her like a warm blanket. She hummed, rubbing a gentle circle with her fingers on the swell of muscle and tendon just below the bend of his elbow. She stroked her hand down his arm and over his wrist to cup her palm over his knuckles.

He’d frozen again, and she didn’t have to look, to know that his eyes followed the path of her fingers. His breath shuddered out of his chest. “Maybe I should head to bed too...”

She supposed he’d trailed off because she had lifted her head so that she could watch her finger trace the dip between the muscles in his shoulders. Whatever their official name was. Who cared? “Bed sounds like a great idea. If you’re done?”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat another bite, honestly,” he said in a soft voice.

She kissed his cheek, and took the box of half eaten peanut noodles from his hand, careful not to touch his fingers. She stood and took it into the kitchen to stick it in the fridge. Then she headed for her bedroom, still very careful with her hem.

“MJ?”

She turned to find him turned about on the couch to watch her. “Coming?”

He jumped to his feet. “Sure, yeah, definitely. I mean, of course. I mean, if-”

She cut him off with a finger to her lips. She smiled at him. “Maybe you’d prefer to sleep on the c-?”

This time he cut her off, hopping over her couch as if he did it every day. Okay, he probably did. He took her hand, brought her palm to his lips. “With you sounds a lot better.” Then he kissed her, pulling her close, and wrapping her up in his warm, tight embrace. “You are too much of a tease, you know.”

 She crooned at him, sliding her arms around his neck and bringing him down for another indulgent kiss. “You don’t know the half of it, tiger.”

His brows lifted and he pulled away to look down at her. “Should I be scared?” He kissed her again, anyways.

“Maybe,” she managed to say, breath stolen by the urgency of his lips and tongue. She pressed her breasts against him, and slid a knee up his leg.

He trembled against her, and his excitement prodded her belly through his pants. He grabbed at her thigh, pulling her up his body until she had to wrap her legs around his waist to steady herself. He trailed his mouth down to her neck, and what could she do but to lift her chin and tilt her neck into his gentle lips.

Her heart raced in her chest, and she shifted her hips against him, fully aware of the cloth that stood between them. Clinging to him with her one hand, and trusting the incredible strength of his arms to hold her, she caressed his side, feeling each muscled ridge hidden underneath his tee.

Pete lifted his head, gasping. “Waitwaitwait.”

Mary Jane tilted her head, “Hm?”

“I’ve got uh...” he sucked in a breath. “thingies in my backpack. Condoms.”

She pursed her lips to keep the smile off her face. “Ooh, thought you were gonna get lucky tonight anyways.”

“Yeah, well,” he said pressing apologetic kisses to her lips. “A guy can dream, right? Better prepared than not. No surprises you, you know?”

She held him in a kiss, tightening her legs around his waist. “I know. Which is why I’ve got that under control, Pete.”

“Oh.” Another long, involved kiss that ended on her neck. His muscles twitched beneath her fingers. “’s gonna be messy.”

“Pete, that’s so the least of my worries,” she crooned into his ear.

He answered her statement with a groan. Then he shifted her weight in his arms, until she had no choice but to grab at his shoulders to hold on, her balance lost, even though she still knew he would never drop her. She told him so with teasing butterfly kisses across his lips.

He took an unsteady step, toward her bedroom door, hands holding her waist to him. He paused, face puzzled, thumbs rubbing at the junction of her leg and hip.

“MJ,” he said, the midst of her kisses, “did you forget something?”

She smiled and rested her cheek against his, breathing gently into his ear. Just to feel him shudder. “What makes you think it was forgotten?”

“Oh? Oh! Oh god.” He jammed her against the wall, almost a stagger if she didn’t know any better. It elicited a grunt of surprise from her, squeezed out as he ground his hip into her crotch. “Sorry. Sorry. Wanted to get you to bed first,” he panted, voice strained.

She could see the desire warring in his eyes. So she helped him decide by taking his earlobe between her teeth in a gentle nibble.

He squeezed her waist in fingers that could crush iron, and then he shifted her weight into one arm again, motions jerky and as strained as his voice.

The cloth disappeared, yanked down, and he plunged into her, filling her.

She leaned her shoulders against the wall as he did, just so she could see the ecstasy in his eyes before they slid close. Then she didn’t have any thought but for the rocking of their hips, as she matched his thrusts with her own, trying to leverage her back against the wall to give them both the best angle.

He held her waist as he thrust inside of her with a steel grip that wouldn’t drop her. Squeezed a little too tight.

He whimpered as her lips trailed the lines of his neck, up to his lips and eyes before running down the other side.

She could tell he labored to stay in control. Even, or maybe especially, in the midst of his passion. Thrusts controlled and timed, breath shaking, but even.

"Too gentle, Pete. Please, I want to _feel_ you.”

His brows furrowed, and he shook his head, his brown eyes on her. “Might hurt you.”

She didn’t say he couldn’t, because they both knew better, but, “You wouldn’t, Pete. I trust you. Trust me too please. I’d tell you.”

A sob shook him, not grief, but anguish and he warred within himself again.

She couldn’t do anything to influence him now, that would be cheating, especially since she had such huge advantages in her current position. Instead she leaned her head against the wall, watched him, taking in the way his wet t-shirt cling to his normally hidden muscles. She even resisted the urge to wiggle her hips, since he’d stopped moving, which meant he had far more control than she’d given him credit for.

“Okay. Let’s try. This. Hold tight.” He let go of her waist, leaving her clinging to his neck and waist planting his hands on the wall above her shoulders.

Above?

No, he wasn’t seriously.

He braced one elbow on the wall next to her head and a hand on the wall next to her hip. One of his knees propped itself against the wall, and then he kissed her, pressing her into the wall.

She kissed him back, fists full of his shirt. “No holes in the wall, please,” she gasped into his ear as he buried his face into her neck.

A groan ripped out of Pete’s chest, and he jerked his hips into motion. Gentle at first, but he quickly picked up the pace .

Mary Jane threw her head back, her hands balling in his tee.

Muscles rippled beneath her hands, and arms. Peter panted and grunted against her cheek, occasionally dropping his head into her neck as he twisted his hips into a better angle.

She focused on the pressure building in the pounding force of his passion. Pleasure and pain that blended together, until one of his adjustments stabbed in places it shouldn’t. “Pete!”

He didn’t stop, but his motions slowed, soothing strokes within her. The hand at her side left the wall, and caressed her leg. “Sorry. Sorry. Need to stop?”

She shook her head, and then kissed him. Letting him know she was okay with as few words as possible, still catching her breath.

He still held onto the wall with one hand and he still moved against her, slowly building up speed again, though with that veneer of control that he always used with her. The hand on her leg slid to her butt, and then planted itself back on the wall at her side. Pete grunted again, and ground his hips into her, crushing her into the wall as he went completely tense in her arms.

Then he was easing her down the wall, both unsteady on their feet. He rested his head on the wall next to hers and gasped for his breath back, smiling like a kid in a candy store.

She still wanted to touch him, her fingers light on his back while he recovered. She traced the line of his spine up into his damp hair, which she twisted in her fingertips. She stared into his sleepy brown eyes, admiring the hazel flecks in his irises.

One of his hands lifted to touch her face and he smiled. Leaned close to press a kiss onto her lips. “Really think I’m ready for bed, now.”

Mary Jane pushed herself away from the wall, slipping away from the arm Peter had on her waist. She snagged his hand though, and pulled him around the corner and lead him to her bed. She climbed onto the mattress, and turned to help lift Pete’s tee shirt off his body, tossing it to the floor. She kissed his chest, licking a line of sweat on his skin. Then she nibbled her way over the peaks of the six packs normally hidden under his clothes, to the thin hairs that started just above the waistband of his sweatpants.

The hard muscle under her mouth flexed and Peter’s hands paused in lifting her nightie. “What are you-?”

Mary Jane pulled his sweatpants down and then - “Seriously, Pete? I didn’t think superheroes wore their own merchandise.”

He moved away, covering his Spidey-wear. “Hey, beggars can’t be choosers! Don’t really have much-” he trailed off.

Mary Jane laid her head against his thigh. “You’re going to be begging for sure,” she said as breathily as she could. “But you don’t get to keep these on” Then she pointed to his wrists “Those have got to go, too.”

His brown eyes widened, and he quickly slipped the webshooters off his wrists, tossing them onto the nightstand next to her bed. The embarassing example of underwear went next, landing on the floor somewhere opposite the vicinity of his sweatpants.

Mary Jane ran her hands over his rigid thigh muscles, sliding her fingers under him so she could squeeze his butt. She had to say one thing for the Spidey costume, it really gave a great view of Pete’s butt. She’d even given it a squeeze a time or too. She also liked the way he squeaked when she pinched him.

He squeaked, jumping in her arms. His hands landed on her shoulder and he pulled her up to rob her breath with a heated kiss. He didn’t object when she pushed him back onto her pillow. He ran nimble hands over her back, hooking fingers onto the bottom of her gown to expose her own backside for a return squeeze. His other hand swept around to squeeze her breast. He growled, fingers tighteng on her rear. His head dropped to mouth her breast, taking her nipple between his teeth through the thin fabric of her gown.

She curled her arms around his head, fingers threaded through his hair.

He rubbed circles on her back and shoulders, wandering down to her thighs and back again.

She rubbed her cheek on his hair, shifting her legs as he tried to guide waist where he wanted her. “Mm-mm,” she hummed.

“Mm-mm?” He kissed his way back up to her mouth and then her ear. “Why not Mm-hmm?”

She looked down at him, meeting his eyes when he let her pull away. Though one of his hands still curled over her waist. She smiled at him, and wriggled her hips. “I have something else in mind.”

A look of confusion passed across his face. “S-something else? What does that-Oh!”

She cut him of by sliding down the length of his body and taking him into her mouth. She grimaced a bit at the taste, but she didn’t pull away.

Peter gasped, shifting his weight on the bed. Mary Jane glanced up and found him on his elbows, eyes intent on her, beads of sweat budding on his face.

Mary Jane bobbed her head, humming into Peter’s member, and making him take another sharp breath. She let him go, only so that she could run her tongue up his length, and circle a finger over the head. Mary Jane glanced up at Pete through her eyelashes, pleased to see the strain on his face. She wanted more from him, so she nuzzled his crotch, right next to his erect penis, breathing on the dark curls at its base. She nipped at the sensitive skin just at the junction of hip and leg, making him jerk. Then she returned her mouth to his hard cock, the fingers of one hand playing with his testicles, while the other rubbed him from the base of his penis and up to her lips and back down again.

His breath became ragged again, and his hips jerked with the need to thrust into her. She saw the sheets twisted in his hands and couldn’t help but to reach out and stroke the top of his knuckles.

Her mouth tired and she took a break to run her tongue along his length. Mary Jane straightened, stretching her back, hand still circling Peter’s erection.

Peter pulled her up to kiss her, desperation in the hands that scrabbled over her.

She didn’t let him pull her on top of him though.“Not done yet, tiger.”

He whined, a petulant sound that she couldn’t help but laugh.

She kissed him on the lips again then bent back over his waist and went back to business. She tilted her head toward the fingers that briefly played over her hair, wishing they would have lingered, but understanding why they didn’t.

Like, really understanding why he was so careful when they were… doing things. Like she remembered his look of absolute guilt whenever she’d been around him wearing that cast on her wrist, even though it had been over five years ago. So, yeah. She understood. She wished otherwise, though.

She crooned around her mouthful, measuring the racing of his heart through the quickening pulse under her tongue and the soft sounds she heard from his throat.

She glanced up to find his head thrown back, mouth agape, muscles in his arms trembling. She smiled at the look on his face, the way every little thing she did twisted his eyes and brow and even the corners of his mouth. Even running her hand along the inside of his leg, along a thick tendon sent another shudder through him, making him jerk beneath her.

She rubbed her legs together, wondering if he’d prefer to finish this the traditional way, or …. should she swallow or spit? Would he be offended if she didn’t want it in her mouth at all? He’d probably say whatever she wanted would be fine. Jerk.

She could tell he was close from the way his breath hitched, which was good, since her jaw had started aching a bit ago, and she didn’t want to take another break.

He wheezed her name right then, “I’m-” and his hips spasmed, almost gagging her.

She jerked her head away, catching a few of the spurts on her tongue, and chin. She kept her hand around his shaft though, a gentle squeeze to give Pete something to push against.

Pete pulled her up to kiss her again, trembling fingers wiped her chin and mouth. “S-sorry. Felt too good, MJ. So good.”

She tucked her body against his side, resting her head on the round muscle of his shoulder. “I’m sorry, too. I still don’t like the taste Pete.” She played with his nipple, just a gentle circle around the tip. She stretched the soreness out of her jaw, watching him catch his breath.

Kind of an exhilaration to know she could lay Spider-man out like this, with just her mouth and tongue and other bits. But she loved the man under the mask more than the mask, though there’d been a time when she hadn’t known and hadn’t wanted to choose.

“’s okay,” he groaned, “I don’t like wearing it. Do I need to grab a towel for you?”

“Oh Pete,” she said, rubbing his pecs in appreciation. “I don’t think you could anyways.” She rolled over and pulled a towel out of her nightstand drawer, quickly wiping at her face. She paused at the look on his face when she turned around. “Yes?”

“Sneaky. Had this all planned.” He took the towel and dabbed it at his groin and the hard planes of his stomach. He leaned toward her, gesturing for her to lift her leg.

Mary Jane obliged, her cheek resting on her fist while she admired the view. “You only now figuring this out?” She grinned, she couldn’t help it. The smile melted when he replaced the towel with his mouth though.

“No. I had you pegged. The moment I realized. You weren’t wearing. Underpants,” he said between kisses.

Mary Jane covered her mouth with her hands, whimpers bursting out anyways. His tongue lit her nerves like a lightning bolt, and she clenched her legs around his head a cry bursting out. She lifted her hips into his mouth, squriming uncontrollably.

Pete panted a laugh against her. His hands curl around the legs, not pulling them away from his head, just holding them.

She realized that he hadn’t really recovered from their second go, but he was still willing to do this. It made her heart swell with adoration for this man. He’d always been willing to do everything, not just for her, but everyone. She knew it was why he put on the costume everyday without fail.

He worked her over, with his hands, his mouth, his tongue. She lost track of time, and glimpses down found his brown eyes focused on her, or closed in concentration.

She whimpered and gasped, soft cries exploding from her lips. A little irritated in the back of her mind that he could get so much of a reaction out of her and she barely got a grunt out of him until the end.

One of his hands circled her wrist and pulled her hand away. “Don’t cover up,” he murmured, “I like hearing you.”

“Not fair,” she gasped, squirming at whatever he was doing with his fingers. “You never made a sound.”

He pulled away, eyes blinking and confused. “Oh. I didn’t- I mean I liked—loved it. Does that matter to you?”

She laughed, laying her head on the pillow and squeezing her thighs in a hug around his head. “Of course. Silly. But don’t you stop now.”

He laughed again, warm breath washing over her. He didn’t stop, and had her writhing on the bed again.

Unlike him, she didn’t have any issues with worrying about control or the lack there of, so she stroked and combed her fingers through his hair, caressed what little of his forehead she could reach. She wanted more contact from him, wanted the thrust of more than his tongue and fingers. But he didn’t stop or pull away and she wouldn’t stop him even if she wanted to.

Every where his fingers touched sent rings of fire through her skin. She might explode if she couldn’t find release.

“There,” she gasped at him, suddenly. She jerked when he did it again and then her vision went white.

Pete crawled up to lay next to her. He kissed her, pushing the gown away from her sweaty skin so that he could run his hands over her body.

“Think you can handle another round?” he asked.

Ooh, right. One thing (good or bad depended on her mood) about sleeping with Spider-man. He had really short recovery time.

Rather than answer she wrapped her arms around his neck and her trembling legs around his waist. Rocked into his thrusts.

Third time was the charm for him. She whited out again and the tightening brought him to orgasm at the same time.

Gasping, he lay splayed over her.

She didn’t even have the strength to stroke his back, not even with her fingertips. She just wanted to sleep.

So she did, since there was nowhere in the world that she would be safer than in Peter’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, did you guys notice that Pete never mentioned he’d lost his apartment in the scenes we saw him talking to MJ. I bet she was floored when she heard that. Three months after the events of the main game too. Poor Pete. Poor MJ, actually. May need a follow up fic or two about that. Also, Miles. He was too cute in the game.
> 
> Want good inspiration for Spider-man smut? My desktop background is pretty much two different poses of of the boxer brief costume from the game. That’s some reeeeeally detailed art there. Yum. Great for reference.


End file.
